Written By Enid
Feb. 26, 2019, 12:29 p.m.(8/22/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Danvir
I've had the honor of watching Danvir's ascension into adulthood since he was a boy. When he came to me for counsel regarding departing from Stormheart and joining his family already in Arx I never spoke of my hesitance. I never told him I worried the great city of the Compact might change him in ways contrary to his chosen path. I never told him I feared he might lose his way or that the distance from his homelands at such a young age might cause a schism between who he is and who he will become. I am glad I kept my personal opinions silent.
In reconnecting with Danvir upon my arrival to the city his words quickly revealed how wrong I had been. He is as ever diligent to his people. He understands his role as a member of House Ravenseye and he has not lost sight of our traditions. My dear little firelight has blossomed into a brilliant torch that stands as an icon of his house and his people. I see more clearly now why he felt so compelled to come to this place. His drive to find his personal truth could have only gone so far if he had limited himself to the familiarity of home. I am so proud.
In reconnecting with Danvir upon my arrival to the city his words quickly revealed how wrong I had been. He is as ever diligent to his people. He understands his role as a member of House Ravenseye and he has not lost sight of our traditions. My dear little firelight has blossomed into a brilliant torch that stands as an icon of his house and his people. I see more clearly now why he felt so compelled to come to this place. His drive to find his personal truth could have only gone so far if he had limited himself to the familiarity of home. I am so proud.
Written By Ysbail
Feb. 26, 2019, 6:48 a.m.(8/21/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Vitalis
Rare is it that you meet someone who seems to understand the poetry of the landscape, while still making you laugh at silly cheese puns. Such kindness, generosity, and honor are rare in the world, and yet you seem to have these in spades. As well as a charming ass. Yes, I mean the Donkey.
Written By Marian
Feb. 26, 2019, 2:41 a.m.(8/21/1010 AR)
We are a nation of diverse people, coming from many backgrounds to build a strong nation of free thinking individuals. It is important to invite discourse between different ideologies because looking at a problem from more than one side can lead to progress and innovation.
When we let our fears around difference rule our hearts and minds, we strike out into the darkness, finding later our own blood covered hands were on the wrong side. Killing another citizen of this great nation for the crime of being different is nothing less than betrayal of the Compact.
These men and women have bended knee to pledge vows to our protection. They may have not been born into the Compact but they serve it every day. They observe our customs, pray to the same gods and hold positions within our Great Houses.This service is not made less by their origins.
Turn your swords towards enemies that serve the darkness. Those enemies who would rend our nation into pieces. Do not bring ruin upon our alliances by courting war with loyal citizens. Our Legate has shown us a tapestry of color filled with the threads of all citizens noble born to prodigal. Do not unravel the ties that binds us together.
When we let our fears around difference rule our hearts and minds, we strike out into the darkness, finding later our own blood covered hands were on the wrong side. Killing another citizen of this great nation for the crime of being different is nothing less than betrayal of the Compact.
These men and women have bended knee to pledge vows to our protection. They may have not been born into the Compact but they serve it every day. They observe our customs, pray to the same gods and hold positions within our Great Houses.This service is not made less by their origins.
Turn your swords towards enemies that serve the darkness. Those enemies who would rend our nation into pieces. Do not bring ruin upon our alliances by courting war with loyal citizens. Our Legate has shown us a tapestry of color filled with the threads of all citizens noble born to prodigal. Do not unravel the ties that binds us together.
Written By Joscelin
Feb. 26, 2019, 12:52 a.m.(8/21/1010 AR)
Children underfoot everywhere. Not an expected turn of events, but a joyful one. I hope to write about it more soon, but just know for now that I'm happy with how busy life has been.
I keep my ear to the current events, offer what input I can but ultimately I will encourage what is best for the Guild and that's not as clear as crystal, given what my folk tell me. This way, that way, this trade, -that- trade, we promise, you promise. It's all about compromise, isn't it? Or you're stepping on toes and cut off and blackballed and there's mold in your meat and rats in your larder and -how did they get there-?
I'm thankful for the newly elected Commoners' Council. They can take the input they gain and offer it to the ears of them that need it. I only hope it's all considered; the foundations of the city are strong, but are they strong enough?
I say yes.
I keep my ear to the current events, offer what input I can but ultimately I will encourage what is best for the Guild and that's not as clear as crystal, given what my folk tell me. This way, that way, this trade, -that- trade, we promise, you promise. It's all about compromise, isn't it? Or you're stepping on toes and cut off and blackballed and there's mold in your meat and rats in your larder and -how did they get there-?
I'm thankful for the newly elected Commoners' Council. They can take the input they gain and offer it to the ears of them that need it. I only hope it's all considered; the foundations of the city are strong, but are they strong enough?
I say yes.
Written By Joscelin
Feb. 26, 2019, 12:48 a.m.(8/21/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Evaristo
Are you -sure- you didn't run off with the pink sapphire on your own? My people are meticulous about their book-keeping and I could swear I had that set aside for something else.
No, I'm kidding. My cousin would never steal from me. It actually annoys him how honest he is with me and my things. I laugh. I LAUGH. Because I'm grateful.
No, I'm kidding. My cousin would never steal from me. It actually annoys him how honest he is with me and my things. I laugh. I LAUGH. Because I'm grateful.
Written By Sabella
Feb. 25, 2019, 9:45 p.m.(8/21/1010 AR)
My darling baby boy,
You are here! A little early, but still perfect with a hint of golden hair and tiny fingers that grasp onto mine like you're afraid I am going somewhere without you. You are such a precious thing and you big sister doesn't know what she's in for. She will never remember a time without you and you two will always be there for each other. We have given you a weighty name, but I know you will wear it well and make all of us proud every day from here on out. It is a name some will see tinged with sadness because your namesake is no longer with us, but I see it as one of hope. The continuation of memory, a new chapter in his story even though he's gone. And of course, your very own blank book to write an epic for the ages!
You have been born to a time of change, a time when new and wonderful things will be brought about. And I intend on helping to build a brighter future for you and your sister and who knows how many more siblings to come!
Put the quill down, Nik, we can talk about it later!
I love you, my perfect little darlings!
You are here! A little early, but still perfect with a hint of golden hair and tiny fingers that grasp onto mine like you're afraid I am going somewhere without you. You are such a precious thing and you big sister doesn't know what she's in for. She will never remember a time without you and you two will always be there for each other. We have given you a weighty name, but I know you will wear it well and make all of us proud every day from here on out. It is a name some will see tinged with sadness because your namesake is no longer with us, but I see it as one of hope. The continuation of memory, a new chapter in his story even though he's gone. And of course, your very own blank book to write an epic for the ages!
You have been born to a time of change, a time when new and wonderful things will be brought about. And I intend on helping to build a brighter future for you and your sister and who knows how many more siblings to come!
Put the quill down, Nik, we can talk about it later!
I love you, my perfect little darlings!
Written By Mikani
Feb. 25, 2019, 9:01 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
I am always glad when old friends come back to town. It is like meeting someone knew and yet the depth of an existing relationship is there.
Written By Silvio
Feb. 25, 2019, 8:09 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Karadoc
An expensive friend/ex
Written By Ailith
Feb. 25, 2019, 6:07 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
(Transcribed by Disciple Ismay)
A Threaded Sermon held by Legate Ailith
Day 12 of Month 8 in 1010 AR
Great Cathedral
Over a thousand years ago, five separate leaders entered a hall. A decision was made that bound them together in unity to this very present. In the words of Dominus Tin, witness and representative of the Faith, -- ' ... and so the four knelt to King Alar of House Grayson, with Queen Sugan of the West kneeling first. Followed by Queen Valeria Redrain of the North. Then Grand Duchess of the New Lyceum Procella Pravus. And finally King Aposyr Thrax of the Mourning Isles.
[Legate Ailith slowly wove a stark silk blue thread with a thin braid of white and gold, then applied a gray woolen thread, finely plied, followed by a vibrant purple thread, and then a blood-stained red thread. A green thread, the fifth and final thread, was woven between the four threads, linking it to the main rope of white and gold.]
And each then spoke as follows: 'Before the gods, I swear my life, my house, and my sacred honor to our Compact. I swear that when the Compact calls me to war, I will answer. I name Alar of House Grayson my king, and swear my leal service to him.' And thusly, the Compact was born and the five kingdoms made one.
To make an oath before the Gods, and then knowingly break that Oath is unthinkable. Our Honor is reliant upon our Fidelity to our sworn word. Over time, these leaders made oaths with other Houses -- from liege to vassal. Valardin, Redrain, Lyceum, Thrax, Grayson, Crownsworn, Godsworn -- more people made oaths and pledged to a fealty. Each of us uniquely part of this union.
[The disciples on either side of the Legate presented new baskets, five in all, and together they wove new threads with the rope to create a longer and thicker one.]
At other times, new people, even elves, became known to us. Through mediation and diplomacy, our allies could see how we held ourselves accountable to our sworn word. That the words fidelity and honor were linked to our Faith, to our bond with the Gods. By this understanding, a bit of trust was forged and contracts could be made.
[The Legate pulled a hot pink thread, along with a pale blue with sandy bits, and an assortment of other colored threads -- and added those threads to the rope. She hooked one end of the rope to the edge of the curtain behind the main altar, pulled to cause the curtain to gradually rise. Behind the curtain was a multi-colored tapestry that consumed the majority of the shrine's wall. The wild assortment of gradients and hues did not make logical sense. The tapestry should have been garish to the eyes. But when observed as a whole, the unique colors blended and the image became clear -- thousands and thousands of individual threads were plied together, then woven to create the map of the entire Compact.]
For the past months, many of you have kindly donated a thread. From King to an orphan, from templar to champion, from leader to vassal, from traveler to farmer, from ally to abandoned. Each of us has created the Compact. But as we pull and tug at our threads, our fidelity and honor is weakened by oaths broken, alliances fallen and forgotten, wars declared, and lives lost. We attempt to mend and repair the damage made.
[Disciples added golden threads; their needles wove along the tapestry to highlight patches such as those by Stormwall, Darkwater Reach, and other regions impacted by war and ruin over the recent and ancient years. Gradually, interlocking rings by these golden threads glistened.]
When one of us falls, we shall endeavor to lift another up, mending, adapting, and re-shaping ourselves, but the weave becomes stronger than most.
This great and glorious Compact has withstood so much over a thousand years. We have this moment not to fold and to show any doubters that in our unity and our Faith, that the fidelity and honoring of our oaths has woven a solemn strength. We have proven that we shall rise and endure. And by the grace of the Pantheon, by our unity, we stand. This is us.
I offer you this opportunity now -- to approach and renew your oath. Be it in the Compact, be it to your liege or vassal, be it to the Gods themselves. Come. Join me. And let the Gods hear our prayer. Let them be riveted by our fidelity. Have them hear our Compact.
A Threaded Sermon held by Legate Ailith
Day 12 of Month 8 in 1010 AR
Great Cathedral
Over a thousand years ago, five separate leaders entered a hall. A decision was made that bound them together in unity to this very present. In the words of Dominus Tin, witness and representative of the Faith, -- ' ... and so the four knelt to King Alar of House Grayson, with Queen Sugan of the West kneeling first. Followed by Queen Valeria Redrain of the North. Then Grand Duchess of the New Lyceum Procella Pravus. And finally King Aposyr Thrax of the Mourning Isles.
[Legate Ailith slowly wove a stark silk blue thread with a thin braid of white and gold, then applied a gray woolen thread, finely plied, followed by a vibrant purple thread, and then a blood-stained red thread. A green thread, the fifth and final thread, was woven between the four threads, linking it to the main rope of white and gold.]
And each then spoke as follows: 'Before the gods, I swear my life, my house, and my sacred honor to our Compact. I swear that when the Compact calls me to war, I will answer. I name Alar of House Grayson my king, and swear my leal service to him.' And thusly, the Compact was born and the five kingdoms made one.
To make an oath before the Gods, and then knowingly break that Oath is unthinkable. Our Honor is reliant upon our Fidelity to our sworn word. Over time, these leaders made oaths with other Houses -- from liege to vassal. Valardin, Redrain, Lyceum, Thrax, Grayson, Crownsworn, Godsworn -- more people made oaths and pledged to a fealty. Each of us uniquely part of this union.
[The disciples on either side of the Legate presented new baskets, five in all, and together they wove new threads with the rope to create a longer and thicker one.]
At other times, new people, even elves, became known to us. Through mediation and diplomacy, our allies could see how we held ourselves accountable to our sworn word. That the words fidelity and honor were linked to our Faith, to our bond with the Gods. By this understanding, a bit of trust was forged and contracts could be made.
[The Legate pulled a hot pink thread, along with a pale blue with sandy bits, and an assortment of other colored threads -- and added those threads to the rope. She hooked one end of the rope to the edge of the curtain behind the main altar, pulled to cause the curtain to gradually rise. Behind the curtain was a multi-colored tapestry that consumed the majority of the shrine's wall. The wild assortment of gradients and hues did not make logical sense. The tapestry should have been garish to the eyes. But when observed as a whole, the unique colors blended and the image became clear -- thousands and thousands of individual threads were plied together, then woven to create the map of the entire Compact.]
For the past months, many of you have kindly donated a thread. From King to an orphan, from templar to champion, from leader to vassal, from traveler to farmer, from ally to abandoned. Each of us has created the Compact. But as we pull and tug at our threads, our fidelity and honor is weakened by oaths broken, alliances fallen and forgotten, wars declared, and lives lost. We attempt to mend and repair the damage made.
[Disciples added golden threads; their needles wove along the tapestry to highlight patches such as those by Stormwall, Darkwater Reach, and other regions impacted by war and ruin over the recent and ancient years. Gradually, interlocking rings by these golden threads glistened.]
When one of us falls, we shall endeavor to lift another up, mending, adapting, and re-shaping ourselves, but the weave becomes stronger than most.
This great and glorious Compact has withstood so much over a thousand years. We have this moment not to fold and to show any doubters that in our unity and our Faith, that the fidelity and honoring of our oaths has woven a solemn strength. We have proven that we shall rise and endure. And by the grace of the Pantheon, by our unity, we stand. This is us.
I offer you this opportunity now -- to approach and renew your oath. Be it in the Compact, be it to your liege or vassal, be it to the Gods themselves. Come. Join me. And let the Gods hear our prayer. Let them be riveted by our fidelity. Have them hear our Compact.
Written By Evaristo
Feb. 25, 2019, 2:14 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
I need to become filthy rich so I can by my cousin's jewelry, every piece of it and hoarde it in a big room and dive into it and just swim around in bliss in all the beautiful shinies.
Went by the shop and there's this amazing gold necklace there with sapphires and amethysts. And more things too, but that one in particular has me just dying of want. And it wouldn't even fit me very well.
That said, her assistants crafted me a few trinkets last week that I'm very, very pleased with too. Another spider ring, this one with a pink sapphire, and another skull in silver with pink sapphire eyes.
Yeah, that's right, I'm a big fan of the Queen.
Went by the shop and there's this amazing gold necklace there with sapphires and amethysts. And more things too, but that one in particular has me just dying of want. And it wouldn't even fit me very well.
That said, her assistants crafted me a few trinkets last week that I'm very, very pleased with too. Another spider ring, this one with a pink sapphire, and another skull in silver with pink sapphire eyes.
Yeah, that's right, I'm a big fan of the Queen.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 25, 2019, 2:07 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
I should probably talk a bit about the Kismet Carnival, since I attended the Arx version and had great fun there. It was housed in a great hall, which while odd at first, was truly an inspired choice - no need to try and set up pavilions to be safe from the weather, and it allowed the performances to really fill the hall. There were games, songs, acrobatics, knife throwing, and a selection of the best beers that I've tasted in a while. If the Kismet Carnivals traveling the land have even a fraction of this sort of excitement, then it's no wonder they are fantastic successes.
The only thing that was missing was dancing. But that's just because I do love a good dance or five, and it would have been fun. I think I'll return to the Hall at some point and try my luck against some of the games again.
The only thing that was missing was dancing. But that's just because I do love a good dance or five, and it would have been fun. I think I'll return to the Hall at some point and try my luck against some of the games again.
Written By Rysen
Feb. 25, 2019, 1:40 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
I recently had the privilege of attending and performing at Venturo's Kismet Carnival. It seemed very well attended, and the performances, save my own, were first rate. I must press the Nightingale for voice and music lessons soon. Lygeia did not love playing the lyre before so large a crowd, though I think she did admirably. The games seemed popular, and - by the gods and spirits - the ale was superb. My only complaint is that I did not have the opportunity to dance in that dirt floored hall - though, of course, I know no partner who might be willing, nor have I the skill to impress if I did. But it truly felt good to find a ray of light amidst the gathering storm clouds, and to be reminded that we are indeed strong together, in merry making, as well as mutual defense.
On the topic of reminders: I encountered again a young woman who is beautiful and fascinating - dangerously so. I completely misread her, and must admit that she caught me off guard. Forsake me not, Limerance, and keep me true to my oath - for what nobility is there in humanity, save that we live by our word?
On the topic of reminders: I encountered again a young woman who is beautiful and fascinating - dangerously so. I completely misread her, and must admit that she caught me off guard. Forsake me not, Limerance, and keep me true to my oath - for what nobility is there in humanity, save that we live by our word?
Written By Enid
Feb. 25, 2019, 12:36 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
It was a long trek from the gates to the Redrain District and I found myself lost several times, but thankfully despite hesitance from some of the locals (which I assume is based in my differing garbs and accented speech) a few very kind and helpful locals pointed me the right way and also noted that on some streets there are signs to help narrow down one's location in the city. It was those signs that helped me find my way to this place. The Great Archive. A vast collection of information housed and guarded. Again I have found myself overwhelmed. The... I think they are priests, maybe? I should have asked for clarification. In any case, the guardians that watch over the mountain of tomes were kind and willing to explain the purpose of this place in more detail than I had understood previously. They were even charitable enough to create my own pair of journals and help me get started. They call it a White Journal and a Black Journal. I am still not entirely clear on the purpose of the Black Journal, but in time I'm sure I will better understand.
Many of our stories are passed only via spoken word, art or song. The collective of our people maintain our history and heritage through these facets (as I've seen recently mentioned by my dear Lord Cadern) via a strong bond and duty to its memory. We are possessive of it and like these sentinels of the Faith of the Pantheon protecting this amassed structure of knowledge, we too have guarded who we are though in a different capacity.
I suppose fear is a large portion of the reason. A history of strife between the tribal communities and the amassed collective that is the Compact gives many pause even after these many years of bending the knee. That fear appears to go both ways, exemplified by those who were not so kind and helpful as the few I met thus far when coming to Arx. Utterances of the word "barbarian" were heard in my peripheral from time to time as I made my way through the city. I'm fairly certain "backwater cannibal" was another scathing comment left in my passing. At first thought, my reaction is to let them think what they will. Let those opinions stand and let that fear fester. Perhaps they will leave me and others like me alone? Alienation isn't why I have come to this bastion of progress, though. I have come to learn and cloistering myself behind the safety of negative stereotypes isn't going to help that.
How cathartic this is. To write all these thoughts out on a page knowing that they will be preserved, that perhaps another like me who has or will struggle like I do may take solace in knowing that someone out there maybe from long past or even in the present feels as I feel and for a moment we may hold a connection through our shared stories.
It really is quite a beautiful idea. I will ask these wardens of knowledge if they have any recommendations on journals that I may share a commonality with.
Many of our stories are passed only via spoken word, art or song. The collective of our people maintain our history and heritage through these facets (as I've seen recently mentioned by my dear Lord Cadern) via a strong bond and duty to its memory. We are possessive of it and like these sentinels of the Faith of the Pantheon protecting this amassed structure of knowledge, we too have guarded who we are though in a different capacity.
I suppose fear is a large portion of the reason. A history of strife between the tribal communities and the amassed collective that is the Compact gives many pause even after these many years of bending the knee. That fear appears to go both ways, exemplified by those who were not so kind and helpful as the few I met thus far when coming to Arx. Utterances of the word "barbarian" were heard in my peripheral from time to time as I made my way through the city. I'm fairly certain "backwater cannibal" was another scathing comment left in my passing. At first thought, my reaction is to let them think what they will. Let those opinions stand and let that fear fester. Perhaps they will leave me and others like me alone? Alienation isn't why I have come to this bastion of progress, though. I have come to learn and cloistering myself behind the safety of negative stereotypes isn't going to help that.
How cathartic this is. To write all these thoughts out on a page knowing that they will be preserved, that perhaps another like me who has or will struggle like I do may take solace in knowing that someone out there maybe from long past or even in the present feels as I feel and for a moment we may hold a connection through our shared stories.
It really is quite a beautiful idea. I will ask these wardens of knowledge if they have any recommendations on journals that I may share a commonality with.
Written By Beatrice
Feb. 25, 2019, 10:59 a.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Avary
The Archlector's recent journal on charity was, while modest, neither futile nor unrevelatory. I see these arguments daily in the business of domain stewardship.
I present five archetypes with a pile of dirt. The physician wants a hospital. The soldier says better to prevent harm first and recommends fortifications. The artist tells the soldier that utility is not the end of life and insists on a statue. The priest advises the artist that art should be divine and suggests a shrine. The academician argues that man's capacity for understanding is the better tribute to the gods and proposes a school. The physician points out that schools without bodies to fill them are wasted. And on we go.
None are inherently wrong. Futility? We must know what to do in the face of these debates. Too often we are left torn, divided, and with what we began: a pile of dirt.
Resources will ever be finite. Quantifying, assessing potential opportunities, the benefits and the consequences - and choice without consequence does not exist - for what to do with resources is, yes, an art. One which some of us have dedicated our lives as surely as the painter to his canvas. Yet, at the end, the most important part is not which you built, but that you built. Choose, before paralysis becomes stagnation.
I appreciate the opportunity to discuss these most crucial of needs.
I present five archetypes with a pile of dirt. The physician wants a hospital. The soldier says better to prevent harm first and recommends fortifications. The artist tells the soldier that utility is not the end of life and insists on a statue. The priest advises the artist that art should be divine and suggests a shrine. The academician argues that man's capacity for understanding is the better tribute to the gods and proposes a school. The physician points out that schools without bodies to fill them are wasted. And on we go.
None are inherently wrong. Futility? We must know what to do in the face of these debates. Too often we are left torn, divided, and with what we began: a pile of dirt.
Resources will ever be finite. Quantifying, assessing potential opportunities, the benefits and the consequences - and choice without consequence does not exist - for what to do with resources is, yes, an art. One which some of us have dedicated our lives as surely as the painter to his canvas. Yet, at the end, the most important part is not which you built, but that you built. Choose, before paralysis becomes stagnation.
I appreciate the opportunity to discuss these most crucial of needs.
Written By Gilroy
Feb. 25, 2019, 8:37 a.m.(8/19/1010 AR)
I'm good not reading any pubic records of anything.
Written By Lisebet
Feb. 25, 2019, 8:32 a.m.(8/19/1010 AR)
The Kismet Carnival was a lot of fun. It was interesting to try the games, even if I had no moments of inspiration or luck at them. The drinks were good and the company was better.
Master Venturo has outdone himself. I am not sure how he will ever top that.
Master Venturo has outdone himself. I am not sure how he will ever top that.
Written By Mirella
Feb. 25, 2019, 8:24 a.m.(8/19/1010 AR)
I managed to find someone who can take better care of the raven than I can. Now, though, I've come into possesion of a cat. Not sure how. I just woke up, and there she was at the end of my bed, purring away like the rumble of thunder. So I suppose I have a cat now. Seems to be a common thing for people these days, mind. One day you just turn around, and there -- cat. And that's how it goes.
She's nothing like the vicious stringy alley-strays from Caina. She's like the pretty lapcats from the homes of affluent merchants. She's small, white as a dove feather, and just a little bit plump, so I suspect she's getting fed elsewhere too. Maybe she's from Domus Inverno, maybe from another nearby estate, and I just haven't seen her before.
Whatever the case, she's tolerably pleasant, though a little foolish. I tried dangling a ribbon for her to bat with her paws, and she just stared at me with the blankest big blue eyes, purring that purr of hers and then making the most bizarre quacking sound I've ever heard. Terrible hunter, no killer instinct. She's supremely uninterested in the crow, which is good. But I'll be wearing silk from now on. The fur she sheds sticks like glue to dark clothes.
She's fine, I guess. I don't really mind having her around. Cats aren't bad, as horrible as the bird-murdering might be. Animals can't help their natures, after all.
She's nothing like the vicious stringy alley-strays from Caina. She's like the pretty lapcats from the homes of affluent merchants. She's small, white as a dove feather, and just a little bit plump, so I suspect she's getting fed elsewhere too. Maybe she's from Domus Inverno, maybe from another nearby estate, and I just haven't seen her before.
Whatever the case, she's tolerably pleasant, though a little foolish. I tried dangling a ribbon for her to bat with her paws, and she just stared at me with the blankest big blue eyes, purring that purr of hers and then making the most bizarre quacking sound I've ever heard. Terrible hunter, no killer instinct. She's supremely uninterested in the crow, which is good. But I'll be wearing silk from now on. The fur she sheds sticks like glue to dark clothes.
She's fine, I guess. I don't really mind having her around. Cats aren't bad, as horrible as the bird-murdering might be. Animals can't help their natures, after all.
Written By Skye
Feb. 25, 2019, 2:35 a.m.(8/19/1010 AR)
When I was a little girl, my mother would tell me bedtime stories of dashing sea captains, villainous pirates and monsters of the deep. Every damsel had a prince to rescue her. Every villain got his just desserts by the end of the tale. Everyone lived happily ever after.
It was an illusion, a gentle fabrication to entertain me to sleep. It wasn't a roadmap to live my life. Yes, monsters exist but they rarely show their true face unless you look deeply into the mirror. Villians may have their reasons for flying the black flag. Heroes can indulge in the hubris of their own greatness.
At the end of the day there's no prince to save the princess. If she wants out of that tower, she has to rescue herself. That's a story I want to tell my future daughter. Whenever in time I find that pragmatic partner who wields more than just steel in his hand.
It was an illusion, a gentle fabrication to entertain me to sleep. It wasn't a roadmap to live my life. Yes, monsters exist but they rarely show their true face unless you look deeply into the mirror. Villians may have their reasons for flying the black flag. Heroes can indulge in the hubris of their own greatness.
At the end of the day there's no prince to save the princess. If she wants out of that tower, she has to rescue herself. That's a story I want to tell my future daughter. Whenever in time I find that pragmatic partner who wields more than just steel in his hand.
Written By Derovai
Feb. 25, 2019, 1:52 a.m.(8/19/1010 AR)
Arx, I left you alone for five minutes, five minutes! And look what you have got yourself into.
(Okay, it was decidedly longer than five minutes, but even so, the point stands.)
(Okay, it was decidedly longer than five minutes, but even so, the point stands.)
Written By Laric
Feb. 25, 2019, 12:55 a.m.(8/19/1010 AR)
Balance is always a popular topic, and its recent relevance behooves me to reiterate old thoughts on it. A discussion about balance without defining and contextualizing what 'balance' is will simply fail or lead to misunderstanding after misunderstanding. The balance that leaps to mind in matters of good and evil is often harmony, or in other words coexistence.
Can true good coexist with true evil? Yes -- as evil. That 'balance' is a form of stasis. With stasis there is no change, with no change there is no growth, and with no growth everything loses its value, even freedom. True good ceases to be good when it decides to ignore true evil. It becomes moral convenience. True evil does not relent. It plays to win. It must be opposed in force. Anything less than that is dishonest to the gods. That struggle waxes and wanes in perpetuity. That unending change is a sort of balance; an acceptable balance, far above what may as well be consigning yourself to inevitable defeat.
Can true good coexist with true evil? Yes -- as evil. That 'balance' is a form of stasis. With stasis there is no change, with no change there is no growth, and with no growth everything loses its value, even freedom. True good ceases to be good when it decides to ignore true evil. It becomes moral convenience. True evil does not relent. It plays to win. It must be opposed in force. Anything less than that is dishonest to the gods. That struggle waxes and wanes in perpetuity. That unending change is a sort of balance; an acceptable balance, far above what may as well be consigning yourself to inevitable defeat.
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